78. Sunday lunch with a twist (3/4)

Today organiser-bossy-daughter is in charge of Sunday lunch, the last of the enjoyable series (she is last because it has been hard to fit her in). She got up early and at 8:30 was down in the kitchen shouting at anyone who was 'late' for breakfast and making a real racket with pots and pans. I wondered if she was doing this on purpose to show us all how early she got started.

I will say nothing about the fact that she had planned to start all this on Saturday for 'flavours to have time to mix' but that Saturday was spent recovering from the party on Friday night. And Saturday evening was spent catching up with friends in a bar. I worry now that the flavours will not be appropriately mixed. 

'I would advise you to stay up here.' My husband says. 'If you go down you'll be horrified or dragged in to do the nasty chores, or both. Stay away.'

He has piping hot coffee and poached egg on toast complete with HP sauce for me. I'm pleased at the idea of one of my favourite breakfasts in bed. I need to tell organiser daughter that I would like a season 2 of this perfect series.

'Oh! Great! Thank you!' I say.  It is not difficult to keep me out of the way. 

I did the shopping online as I discovered during lockdown that this was much easier to monitor things from the home desktop computer than it was in the middle of the supermarket. Thank you lockdown. Again there is a lot of booze on the list. I say nothing. After all it's part of the game. Freedom of expression and choice and all that. If I want a second round of this I better be on my best behaviour.

'Mum, are you doing your shopping on line?' My son sounds in awe. 

'Yes, I have been for a while. What's wrong with that?'

And his sister to pipe in:

'Shows how much interest you put in the daily running and planning of meals for this family.'

'OK. OK. I was just joking! Mum's always going on about too much screens and all that and now I find that she is online ordering eggs, and butter, and even alcohol!'

Then at 1 o'clock sharp we are called:

'A table!' She orders and everyone obediently comes to sit down. The table is laid, table cloth, decorations, even jugs of water (normally a trigger for petty a arguments). We all sit pretty waiting for orders. 

'Just sit down!' She tells us. Then she walks round the table, tray in hand, putting down a glass of Sangria in front of everyone - even the under 18's!

I say nothing. Anyway they politely try it and decide they don't like it. Someone thought it was a starter and commented on the lovely fruit but was it not a bit like a dessert? That got Miss Organiser to give him a sharp look as if to say 'do your research'.

The younger members of the household have been well brought up (by me) (at least in that department) and announced that they did not like the drinks and so I ended up with a neat row of 3 glasses of this delightful alcoholic beverage.

Then  what felt like seconds later (some sleep to catch up on? an other party?), the 'apéritif' was declared done and some plates were put in front of us. She announced, for the ones who had not done research and were about to ask silly questions or make silly comments or both that this was 'the starters'.

There was booze in the starters too. Which, you have guessed it, meant that again I had a row of boozy starters at my disposal.

Then we had a little breather before the main dish (she had to clear out and prepare the plates) and us adults sipped our boozy delights. We kept asking her to repeat the name of the main course and no-one could retain it, we even asked her to write it down. She refused, telling us we had to make an effort!

Anyway, it was beautifully served: a colourful plate of yellow, white, green and black and it tasted delicious! Just the right balance of fish, egg, crispy potatoes, green salad and black olives. We asked again for the name, which she repeated angrily and we all travelled to Portugal hearing the proper name and tasting the wonderful and unusual dish. (I have just texted her: bacalhau à brás, she must be wondering why I want to know that at 11:30 at night, when she is out - again!)

The desert was Pastéis de Belem and they were delicious! The whole mountain of them gobbled up in no time. My husband had to make the coffee (again) but by then she was forgiven. This was an idea generated by lockdown and it has been a wonderful way to travel without leaving the house. I definitely want an other round of this!

This post is dedicated to my reader from Portugal with a big thank you!